


Eclipsed Brightly

by fancywaffles



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem Kink Meme, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Canon, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Felix gets injured by a spell that makes recovery arduous and lengthy and Dimitri insists he recovers in Fhirdiad.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Eclipsed Brightly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fire Emblem Kink Meme, the [prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=194524) was _Dimilix, injury recovery, emotional discomfort, compliments_. 
> 
> My first attempt at writing Dimilix, so thank you for a prompt that included the words Felix and emotional discomfort because apparently that's like a honing beacon for me.

Felix threw his sword in frustration and then became even more frustrated as he saw how little distance his weak attempt at a throw took it. It had been _months_ of this. A minor misstep during a skirmish that should’ve been nothing had spelled him into ineptitude. He had injuries before, but he was always able to push through them, but something about the dark spellwork of that attack had soaked into his blood and bones and made the recovery process stall to a snail’s pace.

The idea that it was stalled forever was unthinkable, so Felix was… frustrated. He was also out of breath and lightheaded on his feet. He moved towards the wall so he could steady himself on it.

“Felix?” And of course, Dimitri.

It wasn’t enough that he’d single-handedly torn through the final battle and really proved that he didn’t need a shield or anything other than his bare hands and _Areadbhar_ , but he’d insisted Felix recover in the capital and had been annoying him ever since.

“What.” Felix forced himself to push off the wall and stand steady on his feet, shoving his hands in his armpits as he crossed his arms over his chest to hide the shaking.

“You said you were going to take a rest after the last time,” Dimitri said, frowning.

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t crawling out of his skin wanting to do literally anything. “I’ve done nothing _but_ rest for months.”

Dimitri walked towards him. He had absolutely no idea what he looked like. Even at his most monstrous, Dimitri towered above everyone in height and presence. He’d grown into even broader shoulders and somehow made disheveled hair and only one piercing blue eye look infuriatingly handsome.

And Felix was. Felix was atrophied from disuse. He felt sick with it. Nothing he ate tasted right and he could feel every well trained muscle in his body waiting to become soft and useless.

“Felix,” Dimitri said, when he was closer. “You’re overdoing it again.”

He would not tell the King of Fódlan to fuck off. He would think it and glare at him so that he knew he was thinking it, but he was a Duke now so he’d keep his mouth shut in that regard.

Dimitri sighed. “I understand that it has been… difficult in your recovery, but the healers are sure that this will pass through your system given enough time.”

Time was something they never had. Felix hated it. He hated waiting. He’d waited for Glenn to come back. He’d waited to find out if Dimitri was alive. Then if he’d ever come back to even a shadow of himself. He’d waited for the war to end. And now that it finally had, he was a broken sword tossed aside with the others. He was so angry, he could feel his blood boiling. The room spun around him in concert to the way he felt unbalanced in this purgatory of his own doing.

“Felix?” Dimitri said again, but his voice felt far away.

Felix clung to the anger, or tried to, as a sweeping wave of vertigo sent the training yard spinning beneath him and Dimitri went sideways… no, no, that was Felix. He realized that, when an arm caught him and then Dimitri _picked him up_ like he was nothing.

“Put me down,” Felix grunted, but he had to close his eyes against the spinning as Dimitri carried him out of the training yard.

“You’re feverish, Felix,” Dimitri said. There was a strain to his voice, probably tired of dealing with this, but too guilty to left Felix go back to Fraldarius and take care of this himself.

Felix did feel hot now that he mentioned it, but he’d thought it was the way Dimitri’s arms picked him up like nothing, the way he could feel the corded thick muscles underneath his knees and around his back. A fever sounded better.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Felix said, but he couldn’t open his eyes. Not only for the vertigo, but pressed up against Dimitri’s chest (because his head had felt too heavy not to lean it against it), he could smell the musk and sweat of the day where Dimitri had done actual productive things, definitely trained, and mostly… him.

This was torture. This was what he got for refusing to die when the spell sliced across his skin.

“You absolutely are not,” Dimitri said. “And you’re not going to get better if you keep… overexerting yourself. It’s not as if my day isn’t mostly filled with paperwork and meetings. There isn’t a war anymore, Felix.”

Yet. Felix didn’t say, because he honestly didn’t believe that and he was glad he didn’t believe it, but there were always fights, skirmishes, battles, always people trying to take advantage of those that were weaker that needed protection. Except now he was the weak one, being carried like a child to the infirmary.

“Don’t,” Felix said.

Dimitri snorted, he was still moving. “Don’t what? Lecture you? I think you’ve proven toeing around it isn’t working either. I…” He shifted Felix in his arms a little, enough that Felix had to grasp onto the loose linen he’d taken to wearing when he wasn’t in armor or at an event that needed to see its King be resplendent to be taken seriously.

“Don’t go to the infirmary,” Felix said, he opened his eyes a sliver to see if the world was still spinning, but the only thing he could see was the cut of Dimitri’s jaw and how he’d missed a spot shaving.

Dimitri sighed again. “You passed out and are burning up, Felix. I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

The thought of going back there, to that stupid bed, caught up in healing and lethargy made Felix sick. It was probably why his voice came out choked when he said, “Please.”

There was a silence and Dimitri’s footfalls were slowed. Felix could see his throat bob as he swallowed. “Fine, but I’m bringing a healer to your room.”

“Fine,” Felix said and shut his eyes again.

The healer was a nice girl from Rowe, who reminded him of Annette, but was not actually Annette or Mercedes, so she didn’t try to guilt him into sleeping. She gave him some kind of concoction that immediately helped with the vertigo and told him he needed to build up more slowly to activity.

Felix was fairly certain if he went any slower, he’d be as good as a corpse.

Dimitri brought him dinner, which was fucking ridiculous. Felix resisted the urge to throw it at him and once again did not tell him to fuck off. “You have a palace full of servants, you don’t have to coddle me because you feel guilty.”

“Mm,” Dimitri said, infuriatingly ignoring him as he put the tray of food next to Felix. It smelled off and turned his stomach. He shoved it away from him to distance the scent.

“You have to eat something,” Dimitri said, reasonably, which made it more annoying.

Felix grabbed the blandest looking thing on the tray and shoved the bread into his mouth, chewing on it with sharp look in Dimitri’s direction.

Dimitri was shifting on his giant feet. He was hovering over him, indecisive, until he finally dragged an ottoman towards Felix’s couch (he’d refused the bed, he’d spent enough time in it as it was, and had threatened to climb off it himself if Dimitri didn’t listen) and sat down.

Dimitri was staring at him, his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands folded together at his chin. “I’d feel much the same, I think. Even if you’d taken the hit for someone else.”

Felix’s mouth was dry and he was still chewing but he rolled his eyes.

“You are a frustrating patient, you do know that,” Dimitri said, lips quirking, like he thought that was funny. “I’ve had two healers quit because of you.”

Felix shrugged and swallowed the piece of bread. It was difficult to get the rest of it down, but he felt mildly better afterwards. “I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” Felix said. “And you feeling guilty if it was someone else isn’t better either.”

“Is it honestly such a stretch that I might merely care about your recovery?” Dimitri asked, dropping his hands from his chin.

Felix wasn’t sure how his gaze was so startlingly strong with only one eye, but the blue pierced through him and he felt feverish again as he turned away from Dimitri. “I’m useless like this.” He was angry again, but now it was stinging into his eyes and if he had to add crying to everything else today he was going to crawl out of the window and throw himself off the balcony. “You’re wasting time you should be spending on actual matters of the kingdom.”

“Felix,” Dimitri said and when Felix didn’t turn towards him, he put his hand on Felix’s chin and gently pressed until Felix followed and met his overwhelming gaze again. “You’re not useless to me.”

Felix’s heart was pounding hard in his chest. They were too close and this was too much. “A King’s sworn sword who can’t lift a damn sword sounds pretty useless.”

The fingers by his jaw moved slightly, not quite stroking. “You have to know you’re more than that,” Dimitri said. He was too close and, if possible, getting closer.

Felix felt panicked and angry and weakly shoved his hand away. Humiliation rolled through him. He’d been weak and feverish off and on, he must’ve said something stupid and revealing. And now Dimitri was… “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

Dimitri pulled his hand back and sat backwards, creating some space. He put his hands on his thighs and glanced away from Felix, giving him some relief, finally. “I almost lost you,” Dimitri said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not pity.”

A traitorous feeling burst through Felix’s chest and his eyes stung again. “You don’t owe me this or anything else.”

Dimitri glanced back towards Felix and looking over Felix’s face, reached a hand out again, but stopped before it reached Felix’s face. “It’s never changed, Felix. For me. If… if it’s changed for you, I will respect that and … and convince Mercedes to follow you back to Fraldarius so you don’t exert yourself into a coma, but it’s not pity and it's not some obligation.”

Felix shut his eyes. This was too much and not enough. He didn’t want to think about the Dimitri before, the bright-eyed wide smiling boy with clumsy kisses and sweet lies children tell themselves, before everything changed. He didn’t want to think that anything he thought might be something during the long stretches at camp where Dimitri would look his way, or how his arm would sometimes brush against him at dinner. Felix couldn’t think about or accept this, because…

“I have nothing to offer you like this,” Felix said.

A hand, maybe the same one that had reached out before, cupped his face. Dimitri’s thumb brushed away an embarrassing tear that had gotten through his defenses. “Maybe I enjoy the pleasure of your company and charming personality.”

Felix’s laugh was choked and when he opened his eyes again, Dimitri was even closer than before. Dimitri’s thumb was stroking his cheekbone and he held himself inches away, a question.

For this, Felix had been weak even before the injury. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to Dimitri’s. Familiar and unfamiliar all at the same time. Dimitri’s soft sigh breathed against his lips, before he slid the hand on Felix’s chin into his hair and deepened the kiss into something less chaste.

Felix felt feverish again and dizzy, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the spell. They were less clumsy than they’d been at thirteen and the feel of everything about Dimitri was bigger. His tongue, once Felix opened his mouth slightly to meet it with his own was even larger than he remembered.

Dimitri’s fingers tangled in Felix’s hair and brought him closer as they kissed. Felix wanted to drown in it. His hands felt shaky as he brought his arms around Dimitri’s neck, trying to pull him even closer, but even against the soft brush of teeth again his lower lip, Dimitri stayed stubbornly where he was. Felix couldn’t even try to actively pull him down without exhausting himself and heard himself grumble against Dimitri’s mouth.

Dimitri pulled back, his hand still weaved through Felix’s hair, moving in a small slow pattern against the crown of his skull in a way that made Felix feel like melting.

“I can’t break any more than I already have,” Felix said, sounding as if he’d run through an entire day’s worth of training exercises.

“I’d rather not risk that,” Dimitri murmured, and then with something of a heat behind his eye, added. “Yet.”

Felix’s attempt at pulling him by the neck again, failed and Dimitri easily removed one of his hands and kissed the inside of Felix’s wrist like a stupid romance book. It was endlessly bothersome how much it made Felix want to melt again. “Would you eat something else?” Dimitri asked.

Felix raised an eyebrow before he realized that wasn’t an innuendo and should’ve guessed since it was Dimitri. “Are you _bargaining_ with me?”

Dimitri shrugged. “Reasoning with you didn’t work.”

Felix scoffed a laugh, even though he wanted to be angry again, but mostly he wanted to kiss Dimitri and everything else he’d tried not to think about for the past lifetime.

“How much?” Felix asked.

Dimitri fought a smile. “Half the tray.”

Felix’s stomach roiled at the idea, but he gave in and scooted back up to sitting from where he’d slid down on the couch. Dimitri didn’t feed him, but he watched him eat, like he had all the time in the world and didn’t have a million things to do as king of a newly unified nation. Felix ate as much as he could stand, which was closer to a third of the plate than a half, all the while Dimitri smiled at him like he’d actually accomplished something.

“Kiss me again,” Felix said, sounding braver than he felt. Dimitri didn’t comment on the fact that he hadn’t actually finished half of it and instead complied with the request. Felix threw himself even deeper into this kiss. Eating had given him enough energy to actually throw his arms around Dimitri and some leverage to pull him closer, when he caught Dimitri off guard.

It was only a second of Dimitri’s weight pressed against his chest, before he pulled back, and it only made Felix want it more. Dimitri’s eye was dilated and his lips were red and bitten. “I… maybe we should pause. You did pass out earlier.”

“I fell,” Felix countered, which didn’t seem to be a winning argument based on Dimitri’s expression. “I’ve waited years for you, Dimitri. Don’t make me wait on this too.”

Dimitri hesitated for barely long enough that Felix began to feel self-conscious, and then picked Felix up as easily as he had earlier. Felix didn’t complain this time and also had no problem fisting his hands into the soft linen of Dimitri’s shirt, so that he could try and get inside it. Dimitri brought him through the antechamber and into the bedroom that Felix had protested before, but now was very pleased with being placed on the bed.

That is until Dimitri didn’t join him. Felix was frayed on every edge of his nerves. He had no way to get out any energy in the last months and Dimitri had kissed him and taken him to bed and was _standing_ there instead of… the list of things he could’ve been doing.

The King of Fódlan walked around the bed and sat on the end of it, near Felix’s boots, taking them off one at a time, like a manservant. Felix’s immediate embarrassment and lack of control in the situation made him shift away (which was better than kicking him which he also thought about), but Dimitri caught his leg easily and slid his hand up his boot, undoing the clasps above his knees and sliding them both off in succession. His hands lingered on Felix’s legs, still covered in the best he could manage to put on this morning and Felix breathed out sharply as Dimitri slid his hands up from his ankles to his thighs.

“This is easier than I imagined,” Dimitri said and then fought a smile again, as he seemed to realize how that sounded. “Your clothes, I mean. The things you normally wear are…confusing.”

“You could rip them off,” Felix said. That was generally how he pictured it.

Dimitri shook his head at him and then slid his hands down his legs again. The fabric between Dimitri’s hands and his skin was infuriating in its uselessness, but Felix wasn’t sure he could get them down on his own from this angle.

“Dimitri,” Felix said. He meant to sound demanding, but he sounded breathy and witless.

It seemed to work though as Dimitri looked up from dallying at his underworked calves going into atrophy from lack of training to his face and then moved up Felix’s body. He didn’t get as far as Felix was hoping so he could kiss him again, but Felix couldn’t complain as Dimitri rucked Felix’s shirt up over his stomach and then past that to the top of his ribs.

Dimitri brushed a thumb softly on the long still purple tinged scar that stretched from the center of Felix’s ribcage down half his back.

“I said I don’t want your pity,” Felix said, tightly. He knew what it looked like. He’d been avoiding mirrors since he’d been able to dress himself again.

Dimitri softly pressed his lips onto the tip of the scar, where it had initially hit and then blossomed out through the rest of him. There was a catch in Felix’s throat and he swallowed as Dimitri continued to apply the same soft pressure to every piece of skin in front that was damaged.

Once he finished he looked up at Felix. “You’re still beautiful, Felix.”

“Shut up,” Felix said, automatically and looked away. He knew it wasn’t a fever this time sending heat up his chest and across his cheeks. “You don’t get to look like you and say that,” Felix said. He meant to say something more biting.

“Look like me, how?” Dimitri asked, but thankfully hadn’t stalled his previous course and continued to slowly hike up Felix’s shirt, his large calloused palms brushing against Felix’s sides and then up and over his chest.

Beautiful was an accurate word for Dimitri, but Felix couldn’t bring himself to say it. He risked glancing at him, Dimitri’s gaze was reverent and affectionate, instead of what it should’ve been which was smug.

“ _Dimitri_ ,” Felix said, on the edge of whining. “I haven’t been able to eat properly or exercise in months and you… you look the same as you did when you took the throne.”

Dimitri looked confused, which was fucking ridiculous, because Felix knew that mirrors existed and he doubted Dimitri had the same urge to avoid them. “Lords would throw their daughters at your feet if they could get away with it and their daughters wouldn’t have an objection.”

“I wish I’d known you felt that way then,” Dimitri said. Now he sounded smug. Felix readied his knee to kick him, but then one of Dimitri’s thumbs brushed across his nipple. The breathy awkward noise Felix made was so embarrassing he let his head fall back onto the bed so he didn’t have to look at him. He made it again, when Dimitri repeated the movement, and then louder when Dimitri’s tongue teased around the edges and his hips lifted in response when Dimitri’s teeth joined the teasing.

“Fuck,” Felix said, articulately. His shirt was too far up now for him to lower his arms without issue and he tried pulling it all the way off, which took effort and concentration he did not have while Dimitri teased one nipple with his mouth and lightly pinched the other between his thumb and finger.

“Beautiful,” Dimitri repeated, sliding his hand up and down Felix’s flank before taking the shirt off completely and tossing it to the side.

“Shut up,” Felix also repeated, but it had less heat to it. Dimitri smiled at him and continued his way up Felix’s body, kissing his collarbone and then his neck and pausing there as a moan escaped Felix’s mouth. Dimitri was still infuriatingly soft as he worked Felix’s neck, but he was still biting down and making a mark, for however gentle it was and that thought made Felix’s hips rise instinctually again and he moaned again.

Dimitri cut the third moan Felix made off with his mouth and they kissed much more urgently than before. Felix grabbed at Dimitri’s hair this time to pull him forward, but Dimitri had angled his body specifically so he _couldn’t_ crush Felix with his weight. Felix tried shifting between wet, messy kisses so that his lower half could angle against Dimitri’s side, but that didn’t work. Neither did dragging Dimitri’s shirt up his back and attempting to use it for leverage in his goal.

That, however, got Dimitri to lift up and take his shirt off, which Felix was not entirely upset about. He’d been underfed and wild beneath furs when he’d come back to them, but almost a year of taking care of himself had made Dimitri muscular and thick where Felix felt like he was wasting into nothing.

“You’re frowning,” Dimitri said, at least having the decency to sound out of breath.

“That’s my face,” Felix retorted, taking the opportunity to continue to stare at Dimitri’s chest so he didn’t have to meet his eye.

“Is… did I do something wrong?”

“Does it _sound_ like you did anything wrong?” Felix’s gaze flicked up to Dimitri’s only so he could glare at him.

“No,” Dimitri said, having the nerve to sound pleased. “But I don’t particularly trust you to tell me if it’s too much.”

“Fuck you,” Felix said, because he’d been holding it in for months out of propriety and now both their shirts were off in Felix’s bed, so that was off the table anyway.

Dimitri’s sigh was unbearably fond. “Two healers, Felix. Two of them quit, because you won’t accept your current limits.”

Something twisted, heavy and tight, in Felix’s chest. “What if it’s not only current?”

Dimitri seemed to think that over, taking the time to idly twist a strand of Felix’s hair around his fingers. “Then your charming personality will have to do.”

“I’m serious,” Felix said.

“So am I,” Dimitri said and stared at him with the kind of intensity it was hard to look at and hard to look away from. Dimitri was a sun that Felix could bask in or burn if he spent too much time around him. “I respect and appreciate your sword skills, Felix, but I’m not in love with them. I love this,” he said, twisting more strands of hair around his fingers. “And this,” he said, tipping Felix’s chin so that he stayed staring at him. “And especially this,” he added finally, moving that same hand onto Felix’s chest that was stuttering as quickly as his breath.

“Would you like me any less if I wasn’t… worthy of daughters been thrown at?” Dimitri seemed to have trouble with the last part, frowning slightly as he stumbled over the words.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Felix said. And then answered the arched eyebrow with. “Of course not.” Felix reached behind Dimitri’s head to where his eyepatch was tied and ignored Dimitri’s hesitation at him undoing it. He’d seen it before, although Dimitri spent most of his time trying to hide it. “You even make that look good. It’s annoying.”

Dimitri’s own self-consciousness seemed to have been set off, because he scoffed at that. Felix brushed Dimitri’s hair back away from his face and imitated him earlier, pulling at Dimitri’s head and reaching up until he could gently kiss the scar tissue there.

Dimitri was kissing him again after that and had thankfully not gone back to his previous position and was now barely holding up his own weight on top of Felix, with his forearms pressed onto either side of the bed surrounding Felix. It was just shy of enough. Felix tried lifting his hips on purpose this time, rocking against Dimitri’s own and earning a noise that sounded close to a growl as Dimitri’s fingers reached back up and tightened in Felix’s hair.

It didn’t last very long however, because Felix had only gotten his foot and part of his leg between Dimitri’s knees before Dimitri pulled off of him again.

Felix breathed out in annoyance. “It’s not too much.”

“You’re shaking,” Dimitri said.

“You’re very good at this,” Felix countered. “Pardon me for having a reaction.”

“Felix,” Dimitri said his name like a curse. Then with a determined look, Dimitri started untying the laces holding up Felix’s pants. Felix stayed quiet, biting his lip not to say anything in case it made Dimitri stop again, and angled his hips up to help as Dimitri took off his pants and underclothes.

He had a better view of Dimitri’s reverent face as he applied the same gentle touch to the insides of Felix’s thighs, spreading them slightly and drawing his hands in a path from there to the underside of Felix’s uncomfortably hard length. Then, Dimitri kissed the tip of it and mouthed around the edges, staring up at Felix, from a mop of sun colored hair.

Felix felt his nerve endings on fire and was overwhelmed again when Dimitri’s warm, wet mouth still bruised from their earlier kissing, moved downwards taking most of him in. His head fell back on the bed and Felix shut his eyes, completely lost in the sensation of Dimitri, King of Fódlan, sucking his dick.

Felix didn’t even notice the sounds escaping from his mouth again, moaning, groaning, and stuttered pleas as Dimitri sucked down. He tried not to instinctively thrust up again, but it didn’t matter, because Dimitri only needed one hand on Felix’s hip to keep him completely immobile. Felix couldn’t help but hear the the noise he made at that realization and tried to cover his mouth.

His only reprieve were the short moments Dimitri broke off for air, before taking him in again, tongue moving in soft fluttery touches whenever he reached the head of him.

“Dimitri,” Felix said. And then his name again. And incoherence as he felt like the pressure building up was going to have nowhere at all to go as it became too much to handle. “I’m…I’m close, you should…”

The absolutely salient noise that Dimitri made as his mouth came off with a wet pop was what finally did Felix in and he came hard. Now, he could admit he was shaking. Felix was certain if he tried to stand he’d fall sideways faster than he did in the training yards.

Dimitri didn’t comment on it, only got up to grab a cloth and water basin, wetting it before cleaning Felix (and himself) up.

“Your pants are still on,” Felix said. He’d meant it to sound like an accusation but he felt hollowed out and it merely came out as a statement.

“It’s fine,” Dimitri said, overly fond as he traced his fingers back up the same trail they’d started with and then down to the soft hair below Felix’s stomach.

Felix pushed himself up to sitting and immediately regretted it. He shut his eyes against the spin of the room and felt Dimitri’s hands on his arms, lowering him back down. “It’s fine,” Dimitri repeated, a little more forcefully. “That was obviously more than we should have done.”

Felix was pleased that when he opened his eyes to glare at Dimitri, there was no more spinning. “That was the best I’ve felt in months and if you’re saying you don’t pity me then let me…”

Dimitri, frustratingly, waited for Felix to finish his sentence, but there wasn’t much Felix could do from his position and as much as he really, _really_ wanted Dimitri to fuck him, even he could tell that was going to be too much.

“Get off on me,” Felix said, embarrassed after saying it, but less so when he saw how Dimitri’s eye darkened again and the faintest hint of that growl came back.

Dimitri didn’t take long, ungracefully shucking off everything from his waist and below that hadn’t been removed yet. Felix reached down to wrap around him, but Dimitri caught that hand with his own and laced their fingers together before leaning over Felix and kissing him again. Felix wasn’t sure if he could taste himself on Dimitri, but the thought of it had him tightening the grip on Dimitri’s hand.

Soft grunting growls were muffled against Felix’s mouth as Dimitri fisted himself against the side of his body. The most skin contact was from Dimitri’s mouth and his other hand, holding onto Felix, but even that felt like too much as Dimitri came against him, breathing hot and ragged against Felix’s mouth.

Dimitri took a moment to clean up again, but didn’t drop Felix’s hand. He stretched alongside Felix, smiling at him in a way that practically bellowed his affection. Felix brushed his nose against Dimitri’s own and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of their breathing, slowing to something less frenzied.

“I suppose I will have to do this every time you need to rest,” Dimitri said, though he didn’t sound all that upset about it.

“I have no arguments,” Felix said.

Dimitri chuckled. “That _is_ a first.”

This time Felix didn’t tell him to fuck off, because he was too sated and tired and rolled towards Dimitri, instead of trying to pull him closer, which did seem to finally work as Felix was able to press the entire stretch of his body against Dimitri’s own.

**Author's Note:**

> on the twitter @waffle_fancy


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